MARCH 12, 2022 – The east end of Samos is a sling shot—or 45-minute ferry ride—from Turkey’s Aegean coast. My original plan was to hop to Asian Minor, travel up the coastline to Istanbul, then proceed north into the Soviet world—Bulgaria, Romania, and beyond. All changed, however, as the ferry pulled away from the dock. As the old vessel’s propellers churned to life, I realized my stash of travelers cheques was missing.
In the next moment I remembered: the previous day, I’d purchased a new pair of running shoes at a small shop in Samos City and paid with a traveler’s cheque. Inadvertently, I’d left an entire booklet of $100-cheques on the counter.
As the ferry chugged eastward, I weighed my options. I decided to spend the day in Ephesus, near the ferry port of Kusadasi, then return to Samos before evening. If I could retrieve the travelers cheques from the shop, great. If not, I’d go back to Athens to file a (wholly legitimate – see 2/14/22 post) claim with AmEx.
As the episode unfolded . . . by the time I returned from Turkey, the shop was closed. On the cobblestones outside the store, however, a kid was kicking around a soccer ball. Using pantomime and hastily drawn stick-figures, I communicated that I was looking for the store owner. In a place where everyone knew everyone, the kid turned willing messenger, ran off, and soon returned with the shop proprietor.
The good man had done the good thing: upon noticing I’d left my cheques behind—and expecting my eventual return—he’d stored them in a drawer behind the counter. He graciously restored my travel finances to their status quo ante and refused to accept remuneration. With ice cream from a street vendor, I rewarded the kid.
By this time, the Turkish coast looked much farther than it had that morning. I decided to bypass Turkey, return to Athens, and from there, travel north, “trading” Turkey, Bulgaria, and Romania for Yugoslavia. I concluded that Hermes—a trickster but also protector of travelers—had altered my “best laid plans” for good reasons.
* * *
I’d taken full advantage of my single day in Turkey, however. Upon landing in Kusadasi, I’d found my way to Ephesus and joined a small, guided tour to see the famous amphitheater where Paul had preached. What impressed me as much as that historic amphitheater was the dry land that now separated the ancient wharves of Ephesus from the sea. Two millennia of silt and other environmental change had eliminated the harbor of Paul’s time. Today I wonder if the next two decades of rising seas will bring the harbor back.
Unwittingly, I’d carried away a Turkish souvenir that would raise eyebrows among border police for the rest of my travels: a passport stamp viewed with suspicion of illicit drug-trafficking. Upon my return to Samos, I was greeted by Greek officials bristling with serious firearms. At no other point in my Grand Odyssey was I subjected to such a thorough search.
Hermes, you trickster you!
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© 2022 by Eric Nilsson
